


The Roche Limit

by Eturni



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Clothed Sex, Come Eating, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Finger Sucking, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28183266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eturni/pseuds/Eturni
Summary: The world has been saved. Armageddon came and went with the kind of fuss that could be put down to a couple of days of mass hysteria. With the new freedom comes Aziraphale's realisation that he could finallydo somethingwith his feelings for Crowley. And the terrible knowledge that he might just Have To, given that his dear demon seems dead set on never going too fast for him again.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 105
Collections: "O Lord Heal This Gift Exchange 2020" [OLHTS discord server]





	The Roche Limit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsNoggin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsNoggin/gifts).



> A little gift for dear Nogz as a thank you for stepping in to pinch hit for the exchange.
> 
> The prompt was First time, post apocalypse, moment of silence in an evening bookshop conversation, long loaded look... and then just FALLING TOGETHER big crash of kiss, frantic display of 6k yrs of desperation and yearning.  
> There were bonus points available for things. I believe I have met them. I will not copy that sentence and out you, though I believe you do that well enough in your own spectacular writing.
> 
> Nogz, when you were asking How Title Fic? and I said scientific phenomenon? This was absolutely the reason.

They were spending more time with each other now that the world wasn’t on the precipice of Armageddon and the scrutiny of their superiors had pointedly slipped into a ceasefire. It was nice. It was perfectly lovely.

Really it was.

It was just also… very trying.  _ Tempting _ , not to put too fine a point on it.

Aziraphale was happy with the slow closing of the gap between them; the orbit of Crowley in his gravity passing closer with each day. It was also so  _ very _ slow: a problem whose irony did not escape Aziraphale in the least.

Now that they didn’t have eyes on them constantly Aziraphale found that he wanted so much more, and still Crowley was being careful with his approach. Still sprawled out bonelessly across the full length of the couch in the back as Aziraphale decided on a little nightcap for them. Taking up the whole space as though he just expected Aziraphale to sit whole  _ feet _ away from him.

And here the angel was inviting him back to the shop without the slightest preamble. Offering one more small drink; anything to keep the demon near to him a little longer after the wonderful meal they’d shared. Anything to try to indicate that he was ready for more. Faster.

He wasn’t sure if Crowley was being obstinate in missing all of his clues or had just been burned one too many times to risk himself further without something more concrete. He supposed he couldn’t blame him. For all the good that Crowley  _ deserved _ , for all the reckless abandon he had leaping into the unknown, he had never once had the kindness of being caught.

But  _ oh _ how Aziraphale just  _ ached _ sometimes with the thought of reaching out and finding out with his own hands how sharp that jawline was. He could imagine, stark and clear, what it would be like to draw Crowley in and kiss him so soundly that the demon forgot any misgivings. Pulling him closer still until their corporations were barely two separate things.

He was so caught in his own thoughts that he almost jolted with surprise as long, slender fingers brushed his own; even though he was the one handing the demon a glass of whiskey.

“You alright angel?” Crowley tipped his glasses down to look over them pointedly before apparently deciding that he couldn’t be arsed and discarding them off on a side table.

Aziraphale swallowed thickly before nodding. “Yes. Sorry, miles away I’m afraid.”

Crowley’s lip curled in amusement as he took a drink; one long, clever finger tapping thoughtfully on the edge of the glass. “Invite me over and then take off as soon as I’m settled? Some friend you are.”

Aziraphale hummed thoughtfully at that. “Well, it certainly won’t be happening again in a rush”  _ not if he could help it at least, but Crowley was so  _ very _ distracting _ “so I’m certain you can get over a moment of me being missing. Especially given that business with dear Miss Earhart.”

“Oi, I thought you agreed not to talk about her again. Sore subject, that one is,” Crowley huffed, suitably distracted as he went off on a rant about how he had  _ absolutely nothing to do with what happened _ but as usual refused to breathe a word of what  _ had _ gone on.

Aziraphale found himself smiling as he watched Crowley gesticulate like a particularly wild conductor. He was so very  _ fond _ of his precious, silly demon.

In moments like this, more than every other moment, Aziraphale truly ached to reach out and close the distance between them. Crowley’s whole body was lit with animation and he loved to see it as much as he loved the errant idea of wrapping him up close and tight and making him  _ be still _ .

He could imagine so clearly his fingers twined into Crowley’s hair, his thumb along his lips until they stuttered to a stop. It took a moment more of contemplation before the completely unbidden thought that  _ he could _ . That nothing was stopping him any longer but force of habit.

He distractedly placed his glass on the side before he had chance to drop it and moved in closer to Crowley, who was still talking about Hell and radio frequencies. With each step the excuses fell away, carelessly discarded in the wake of the sudden thrum of thrill-fear low in Aziraphale’s stomach.

“-and it’s not like I could,” the rant devolved into a harsh mash of consonants as Aziraphale rather unceremoniously plucked the glass from his hands and reached across him to place on the little table beside the couch.

Quite unfortunately it was just a touch too far and Aziraphale had to get onto the couch to reach properly. Entirely incidental that this meant settling himself astride one of Crowley’s carelessly splayed legs.

He was warm beneath him. Wonderfully so, and when he looked down he could swear he saw the beginnings of a flush against Crowley’s cheeks. As if to check he reached to cup Crowley’s face with both hands, his thumbs running over the curve of his cheeks to confirm and chase the heat there.

He was just perfect, really. Not to mention so shocked that Aziraphale was quite thankful the demon didn’t need his heart. From his wide eyed stare and the odd choking noises that heralded his attempts to speak, Aziraphale was half certain a mortal body wouldn’t survive it. From the way Aziraphale’s own superfluous heart swelled and throbbed in his chest, he wasn’t certain a mortal body would survive his own love either.

For a moment all he did was gaze intently into Crowley’s eyes; watching as slow understanding and wary hope overtook the initial shock. Letting him choose if this new pace was okay.

“Angel? What are you doing?”

Aziraphale’s smile strained at the forced uncertainty. Like he didn’t dare quite fully hope. “I think I’m going to kiss you, my dear. Unless there are any objections.”

Crowley made a sound that was a little bit like he was making a valiant effort to swallow his own tongue. Then he nodded, hard; a breathless, wordless agreement that made sure his eyes never left Aziraphale’s.

He’d thought to be gentle. To ease them into it. Honestly, he had.

Something about that open eagerness broke any such resolve almost before it had formed in Aziraphale’s mind and he surged forward until their lips crashed together.

Presumably from the muffled little sound Crowley made he hadn’t been expecting that either, but he didn’t seem to be complaining as he tilted his head into the kiss and pressed back with a hunger that thrilled in Aziraphale’s chest.

Aziraphale wiggled just slightly to get more comfortable, warmed all over by the slight groan that whispered against his lips from Crowley at the movement. His demon was all but  _ devouring _ his lips and it was at once overwhelming and exactly what he had been hoping for since they were first freed from their superiors.

He threaded his hands back into Crowley’s hair to crush their mouths even closer together, happy to be breathless with the weight and the taste of him. When Crowley started to insistently nip at his lower lip it was barely a thought to open himself up to the welcome invasion.

The groan then was definitely from Aziraphale himself as Crowley’s clever tongue slipped into his mouth and started mapping with a veracity that would have left him weak at the knees if he weren’t already on them.

As it was, all he had to worry about was the building flood of warmth that pooled at the pit of his stomach and made his breaths harsher still as he gave himself over to Crowley’s attentions with only the occasional gentle pressure of his thumb against Crowley’s jaw to give him more leverage as he devoured right back.

Aziraphale was not a one to be shy with exploring the tastes and textures of his favourite treats and he was firmly certain that he could stay for  _ hours _ just content with teeth and pressure and a  _ very interesting _ tongue. The only problem with staying that way, really, was that Crowley was making some  _ terribly _ distracting sounds at the back of his throat that reverberated like growls and made Aziraphale so warm under all his layers that he could barely concentrate.

And the hands. The hands that desperately wrapped around Aziraphale’s hips, thumbs occasionally brushing just low enough to make Aziraphale’s hips stutter. When a thumb pressed  _ just so _ against the seam between his leg and hip the throb of heat that had been building couldn’t be ignored any longer.

He pulled out of the kiss for just long enough to groan Crowley’s name like the most sacred of prayers.

He’d fully intended to immediately return to Crowley’s mouth when the other’s eyes fluttered closed at the noise, his head dropped back against the couch with a breathless little “Fuck, Aziraphale,” as his hips rolled upwards and against Aziraphale’s thigh.

The twitch of Crowley’s dick against him had Aziraphale swallowing thickly and the  _ noise _ he made shot a bolt of heat low in his belly. Suddenly he was rather less interested in keeping Crowley’s mouth occupied than in hearing more of the same. After all, the demon’s neck made quite the tempting target in his momentary tableau.

He leaned in just enough to begin trailing kisses along Crowley’s jaw. Azirapahale’s breath hitched when it pressed him more firmly against the other and Crowley let out a delicious whine; hips thrusting upwards for the briefest of moments.

“Does it feel good, my dear?” He asked, only a little embarrassed by how rough his voice already was just from this.

“Yesss,” the hiss of it sent a shiver down Aziraphale’s spine and he pressed his leg more firmly between Crowley’s to pin him down thoroughly.

“You feel good, too. Everything about you. I can’t believe it took me so long to see how you’d feel like this. You do know I’d give you everything, you dear,  _ darling _ thing? My gorgeous, tempting demon.”

Crowley was suddenly rolling his hips up against him in earnest; the hard line of his dick was as impossible to ignore as the breathless sounds he made in time with each arching brush.

Aziraphale couldn’t help himself. He wanted to taste those sounds, to swallow them whole. He pressed back into the firm rub of Crowley’s jeans and brought their lips together again to take each one of those sounds into himself.

He barely noticed as Crowley’s fingers drifted down, wrapping around Aziraphale’s thigh as if to hold it steady as he thrust against him with the kind of wanton heat that had the angel almost dizzy with need himself. He was hard enough that it almost hurt; but Crowley was holding him, whimpering those beautiful sounds, and he couldn’t think to do anything but drink it all in.

Crowley pulled away suddenly; eyes scrunched tight as he pushed back away from Aziraphale’s leg. “Shit, Aziraphale. I need to- need. Fuck, can I-”

“Anything, Crowley. Oh  _ anything _ .”

When he looked down he could see the both of them straining; Crowley’s hands trembled on his thigh before they skittered upwards. His fingers continued to tremble for just a second before seeming to find their resolve. They barely faltered as they made quick work of Aziraphale’s buttons.

The groan of relief as his dick was freed was echoed by Crowley’s own moan of appreciation.

“If I’m dreaming I’ll murder anyone who tries to fucking wake me up.” Crowley hissed under his breath.

It was almost enough to make Aziraphale laugh but then those talented fingers were wrapping around his cock and the angel momentarily forgot to think at all.

The warmth of Crowley’s grip and the slide of his fingers was  _ achingly _ perfect and he was once more thrusting desperately against Aziraphale’s thigh with low moans and tight whines and it left him leaking unreservedly against Crowley’s hand until he was slick with himself.

His hand in the other’s hair pressed Crowley in for another kiss around soft moans before he gave up on any sense of coordination while everything was so disorientingly good. Foreheads pressed together, Aziraphale devolved into panting praise between hitching breaths.

Crowley’s desperate groans quickly devolved into whines at that, hips and hand stuttering until his spine bowed upwards with a low cry of Aziraphale’s name.

The sound alone was enough to leave the angel’s dick twitching; his whole body drawn tight with need as Crowley gripped him just a shade too tight. Rather than hurting it sent a thrill right down his spine, a low groan spilling from his lips as he reached that indefinable moment of hotneedwant just before the sensation of it overcame him. It was like being pulled apart under the force of Crowley’s gravity; scattered with every atom white hot with need and sated at the same time.

When he blinked he wasn’t certain exactly how long he’d been drifting but he could see Crowley’s hand hovering uncertainly, covered in the evidence of Aziraphale’s  _ quite spectacular _ orgasm.

“My dear that was amazing,” he praised, noting the way Crowley gulped in response even before Aziraphale quite gently took the demon’s wrist and brought his hand up to his lips.

He gently took the first digit into his mouth, laving his tongue around and sucking until it was quite clear of his spend. He locked his eyes with Crowley the entire time; watching the other’s jaw work uselessly even as he felt the telltale stirrings of his interest against his thigh once again. 

“Would you like to spend the night, my dear?” He asked, between releasing one finger and starting on the other.

“You don’t have a bed,” the immediate response seemed to come without Crowley’s conscious thought; still trapped in Aziraphale’s gaze.

The angel smiled, releasing the finger with a slight wet pop. “I rather think I’ll be needing one. Regularly, if you’d be amenable?”

Crowley gulped again, offering a hazy nod. “Yeah, yup. Thats me. Ol’ Anthony Amenable Crowley. Get you sorted with that bed now, as a matter of fact; don’t know if I trust your taste in proper comforts.”

Aziraphale smiled, as warm at that little dig as he had been with any of the lovely things that had come before. “As you wish. So long as we’re up there before too long,” he raised an eyebrow pointedly.

They were upstairs and in a brand new bed in a brand new room above the shop within the same snap of a miracle.


End file.
